


The Jewel in the Harem

by dreaming_daenys



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_daenys/pseuds/dreaming_daenys
Summary: Padmé recounts a disturbing dream of a pleasure palace in Nal Hutta.





	1. A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé recounts a dream to Sabé, beginning with finding herself in chains in a pleasure palace of Nal Hutta.

“Tell me.” The warmth of Sabé’s whispered breath dances across Padme’s breast as her handmaiden teases a nipple with the tips of her teeth. 

“You’ll be shocked,” Padmé sighs. She has had dark dreams before, dreams from which she always awakens with slick thighs, unsure if she is more frightened from what she has done in dreams—what has been done to her—or of how her body has responded. 

“Shock me, then,” Sabé says as her eager mouth travels down Padmé’s taut stomach, down to the place between her legs.

***

 _You can’t take her royal highness there!_ Captain Panaka’s words seemed to ring in her ears from those years ago. _The Hutts are gangsters_ , he had warned, followed by the unspoken threat: _…gangsters, and worse when it comes to females._

“Be still, your royal highness,” the Twi’lek chided her, her voice lilting higher to pronounce the title with a mocking tone. 

“I will not!” Padmé shouted with more daring than she felt. She continued to twist and contort her body against the chains that bound her to the table, while the Twi’lek attempted to hold her still with one hand and wipe her clean with a warm, scented cloth with the other. She had been brought into the pleasure palace screaming, and had even managed to bite one Gamorrean guard hard enough to draw blood. It had taken three of them to hold her down while a fourth shackled her to the table on which she lay. She had tried to bite the Twi’lek when she cut her clothes of off her body, her rage turning into despair when the Twi’lek had merely laughed and teased her. _Oh, little queen, you won’t need modest garb anymore._

“Don’t be silly, now, little queen,” the Twi’lek said, wiping the wet cloth against Padmé’s neck. “You want to be clean for your new Master. Dorulla prides himself…herself…well, I imagine a queen knows all about the Hutts and their ways. But Dorulla prides himself on how well he keeps his treasures. You’ll only anger him if you appear covered in sweat and dirt.”

Padmé grimaced as the Twi’lek continued her ministrations, pausing every so often to dunk the cloth into a bowl of warm water nearby. She scrubbed Padme’s shoulders before moving to her underarms, then to her breasts. Padme tried to clench her legs together when the Twi’lek began to guide the cloth between her legs, but the shackles on her ankles made it impossible. 

“So modest,” the Twi’lek said with a smile, rubbing the cloth slowly between Padme’s legs. “Turn over.”

“No,” Padmé spat. The refusal had barely left her lips before the Twi’lek slapped her cheek hard enough that Padmé’s vision blurred. Half a moment later, the Twi’lek slapped her other cheek.

“Turn. Over.” 

Her head still spinning, Padmé found enough strength to shake her head. 

The Twi’lek leaned over her, her purple eyes meeting Padmé’s. She took her chin in her hand almost tenderly. “If you do not turn over,” she said calmly, “I will call the Gamorreans back, and I will have them turn you over. And then, I will let them take their pleasure with you, and only when they are spent will I begin to clean you again. The choice is yours, your royal highness.”

 _Say no, Padmé willed herself_. _Shout no. Bite, scream, scratch her if you can._ But no words came out, and try as she might, she could not force herself to even shake her head again. Submit to this disgrace now, or submit after being ravaged by those beasts—the result would be the same.

Silent, she allowed the Twi’lek to turn her over, her shackles clanking against the table. Her stomach churned as she felt the cloth work its way down her back, and bile rose in her throat when the Twi’lek parted her other cheeks and began to wash in between them. But only when the Twi’lek left her did she allow herself to weep.


	2. The Jewel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé meets her new master.

Her defiance had returned when the guards had come to fetch her from being cleaned. They had laughed at her instinctual modesty, how her shackled hands had tried in vain to cover her breasts and her slit. For a moment, they unshackled her hands from the table, and she tried to scratch at them, but it had been no use, and they quickly fitted her with golden handcuffs. They did not unshackle her ankles until the heavy golden collar of a slave had been locked around her neck. 

“I will not submit! I will not!” Padmé had cried as, carried over the shoulder of one guard, she had been carried down a dimly lit corridor. She kicked at him, but it only elicited more laughs.

She had been thrown onto the stone floor with more force than she expected, the fine carpet doing little to cushion her fall. In vain, she had tried to run, but the guards were too quick, and had already locked the chain of her slave collar to a pillar in the room. She only made it a few feet before the collar caught her, choking the breath from her throat. 

They had left her, mocking her in their own language, making crude jokes that anyone could gather the idea of. She had struggled against the collar for some time, desperately trying to discover a weak point that could unlock it. Tears came unbidden as she gave up, sinking to the ground.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since they had left her; the chamber had no windows, and she could not tell if it was even still night. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the lock in the heavy door turn, and she leapt to her feet. The handcuffs provided her hands more freedom, enough to cover her slit and some part of her breasts.

Padmé could not hide the disgust on her face when the Hutt—Dorulla, she imagined—slithered into the room, followed by the Twi’lek. Even from across the room, the Hutt’s stench turned her stomach.

The Hutt released what sounded like nonsensical grunts to Padmé, which the Twi’lek responded to with a nod. “Dorulla, your Master, welcomes you to your new home,” the she said.

“My master?” Padmé shouted. “I am the queen of Naboo, and no one is my master, least of all that….that monster! You will release me immediately.”

Dorulla clearly understood her, for a sound very much like low laughter emerged from the Hutt’s lipless mouth and echoed throughout the room. Again he made noises towards the Twi’lek, and again she translated. “Dorulla, your Master, is aroused by your spirit. He will enjoy you now.”

“Enjoy me?” Padmé asked, her body stiffening. _How can that...that thing...enjoy anything?_

Without another word, the now-slobbering Hutt began to slither towards her. Padmé cried out and backed away as far as she could before the chain of her golden collar would give no more. A moment later, his tiny hands were on her, his stubby fingers pinching at her nipples. She desperately pushed at him, but her hands sunk into his flab.

“It will go much easier with you if you submit,” the Twi’lek said, pushing Padmé down to the floor. The Twi’lek sank down beside her, grabbing the chain that held her handcuffs together and pulling them tightly. “Spread your legs for your Master.”

“Never,” Padmé shouted. She struggled against the Twi’lek’s grip on her handcuffs, then felt the Hutt’s tail begin to slither up her leg. The tip of it danced across her mound, prodding at the lips of her secret place. 

The tip of the Hutt’s tail slid into her, try as she might to clench her legs shut. The Hutt’s slobbering grin alerted her that her clenching only made her tighter, and thus gave him more pleasure as he thrust his tail into her. Padmé ceased to resist, letting the monster fuck her. _He will not see a single tear from me._

With no resistance, the Hutt began to drive his tail deeper into her. With horror, Padmé realized that he went deeper with such ease because she was wet. She let out a cry again, this time in anger at both the Hutt and her own body’s betrayal. The Hutt laughed, a deep guttural laugh that caused spittle to hit her face.

With each thrust, Padmé felt her arousal build. Her legs began to spread wider, admitting the Hutt even deeper into her, as if she was no longer in control of them. Small cries of pleasure escaped her lips, each one making her blush with shame. The Hutt matched each of her cries with a grunt of his own and a deeper thrust into her.

He will rip me in half, Padmé thought frantically, before the wave of orgasm took her over. She felt herself contract against the Hutt’s tail as she moaned. As she came, it was as if she could see the revolting scene herself: the Hutt before her, drooling and grunting, his tail deep within her, her legs eagerly spread like a whore’s, all while the Twi’lek held her handcuffs, loosely now.

Padmé’s entire body shook as Dorulla slowly pulled his tail out of her, her legs still spread. Looking down, she could see that she was wet and red between her legs. It did not take much force to yank her handcuffs hands away from the Twi’lek’s loose grip and cover herself as the Hutt turned and began to slither out of the room, grunting a few words as he left.

“Dorulla’s little queen of Naboo has pleased him,” the Twi’lek said, “Tomorrow, he says, you will be the jewel of his pleasure palace.”

Padmé lay still, her secret place beginning to ache with soreness from the Hutt’s use. She felt someone—the Twi’lek, perhaps—carry her to a bed, and rather tenderly pull the cool sheet over her naked body. _The jewel of his pleasure palace_ , she repeated to herself as the darkness of exhaustion took over. _The jewel of his pleasure palace._


	3. Juna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé is expected to serve Juna, the mistress of the harem.

Padmé could not tell how long she slept, for there were no windows in the room in which she was kept, but her sleep was deep and dreamless. She awoke on a soft bed, her legs tangled in a sheet, her neck sore. She absently reached to massage the nape of her neck, and it was then that she felt the heavy golden slave collar. Looking up from her pillow, she realized that its long golden chain was hooked onto the headboard of the bed. Whoever had chained her had given her enough length to sit upright.

As she sat up, she noticed that beside the bed was a table, and on it sat an empty glass, a pitcher filled with water, and a plate heaped with bread and fruit. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized that she could not remember the last time she had eaten. She broke off a hunk of the bread and shoved it into her mouth as she poured water into the glass. Only after she had finished one glass and poured another did she notice that the handcuffs that had bound her hands when the Hutt had fucked her were gone.

She was halfway through chewing on a date when the door swung open. Padmé reached for the sheet and covered herself, praying silently that the Hutt had not returned to enjoy her again. 

She was shocked at her own relief when it was the Twi’lek who entered her room. Padmé saw now that she was stunningly beautiful, her light blue skin setting off her wide purple eyes and full red lips. Two triangles of gold cloth barely covered her large breasts, and a small skirt of the same design hugged her wide hips. Around her neck was a golden slave collar, though no chain was attached to it.

“You look rested,” the Twi’lek said, sitting down on the foot of the bed. Padmé pulled her feet away and brought her knees to her chest, fuming at the Twi’lek’s familiarity.

Before Padmé could say anything, the Twi’lek laughed. “You’re very spirited,” she said, “Dorulla enjoys the spirited slaves. He’ll enjoy breaking you.” 

Padmé narrowed her eyes into a glare, determined not to show any fear. “And who are you?” 

The Twi’lek laughed again. “So haughty! Just like a queen. You must forgive my bad manners, your highness. We’ve never had a queen in the harem before. My name is Juna.”

“I didn’t ask for you name,” Padmé said, “I asked who you are.”

“I see,” Juna said. “I am a slave of Dorulla, just like you. I’ve served him for many years, and he’s come to trust me to run his harem.”

With a quick tug, Juna pulled the sheet off of Padmé, exposing her naked body. Padmé gasped, and tried in vain to pull it back over herself, but Juna was too quick, and she tossed the sheet off of the bed entirely.

Padmé used one hand to cover her slit, the other to cover as much of her breasts as she could. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, with more fear in her voice than she had planned.

Juna smiled. “You must get used to being exposed, your highness. When you serve Dorulla in his great hall, he’ll want to display you to his guests.”

“Am I to do that now?” Padmé’s voice broke as she raised the question. It had been humiliating enough to be stripped and taken by the Hutt while the Twi’lek held her down, but to be paraded nude through his great hall before countless others would be unimaginable.

“Oh no,” Juna said, “You won’t do that just now. Dorulla will want to enjoy you himself in private once or twice more before he shows you off. Just now, you’re going to serve me.”

“I won’t!” Padmé shouted. 

“I assure you, you will,” Juna said calmly, rising from the bed. She reached behind her back to untie the cloth around her chest, and it fell away to reveal her breasts. She untied her skirt and let it fall to the ground.

Padmé cursed herself as she felt a pang of desire as the naked Twi’lek climbed onto the bed. “Shall I get your handcuffs, your highness? You’ll serve me, but the choice as to whether or not you’re manacled is completely yours.”

Padmé shook her head, for she did not want her hands bound again, as they had been when the Hutt fucked her. The Twi’lek stradled her, her legs around Padme’s narrow hips. Her hands went immediately to Padmé’s small breasts, slowly kneading them. Padmé blushed when she felt her nipples harden under the Juna’s hands.  
Juna pinched one of Padmé’s nipples, eliciting a short gasp. Unprompted, Padmé took Juna’s breasts in her own hands, giving them a few squeezes. Juna nodded, smiling. After a few more squeezes, Padmé leaned forward and took one of Juna's nipples into her mouth. 

“Yes,” Juna sighed as Padmé began to toy with her nipple, her tongue flicking against it. Her other hand remained on the Twi’lek’s breast, and she squeezed her other nipple between her fingers. 

Juna grabbed Padmé’s other hand and placed it on her smooth mound; like most Twi’lek’s, she was hairless. Padmé could feel that she was wet. Juna’s hand guided two of her fingers into her. She slowly began to ride Padmé’s fingers, releasing a small moan with each thrust of her hips.

Padmé felt her own arousal building, and she placed her other hand on one side of Juna’s ample bottom, guiding the Twi’lek’s thrusts. She began to thrust into Juna herself, driving her fingers deeper into the Twi’lek’s warm slit. Padmé found her own hips thrusting against Juna’s leg, the place between her legs aching with desire.

It was only a few moments before Padmé felt Juna begin to contract with orgasm, as the Twi’lek moaned louder and collapsed onto her. “Oh, little queen,” Juna sighed, “How well you serve.”

Padmé’s hand, still slick with Juna’s arousal, drifted down to her own mound, and she began to furtively stroke her clit. She had not wanted to show Juna any desire, any weakness, but as with the Hutt, her body’s desires had betrayed her. 

Without a word, Juna scooted down the bed and spread Padmé’s legs wide, each of her hands resting on one of Padmé's thighs. Padmé cried out in pleasure when Juna’s tongue entered her. Each thrust of Juna’s tongue elicited a low moan. She spread her legs wider, as wide as they would go.

“Please,” Padmé managed to cry in between moans. “Deeper!”

Juna thrust her tongue even deeper, and Padmé continued to rub her own clit. She let out one last wordless moan as she came.

After a moment, the Twi'lek rose from the bed as Padmé lay still, exhausted, her legs splayed. She began to dress, a smile on her face.

“You serve excellently,” Juna said, tying her top back on to cover her breasts. “Rest now. Tomorrow, I believe Dorulla will send for you.”

“And you?” Padmé asked quietly.

Juna pulled on her skirt. “I will enjoy you often, I think. Just remember: when Dorulla is displeased, I am displeased, for he will take it out on me. So serve Dorulla well, and you will find me as kind to you as I was today.”

It was not long before Padmé drifted off to sleep again; this time, she dreamt of Juna’s delighted moans and of how her breasts bounced when Padmé thrust into her.


End file.
